Moving Forward
by ewells4
Summary: "Take whatever time you need, but you should know I'm serious about my feelings and that more than anything, I want there to be an 'us' at the end of it all."
1. Chapter 1

**This is a multi-chapter story-six chapters and an Epilogue. It's pretty much finished, so if anyone is worried about stumbling in to some unfinished fanfiction, that shouldn't be a problem here. This first chapter is a "wake-up" story (obviously) and the subsequent chapters evolve from there.**

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><p>The sun had finally made an appearance for the first time in weeks. As the clouds rolled away, Sam relaxed in his hospital bed, grateful to be alive. At the sound of a barely audible sigh in the doorway he turned his head away from the window and a small smile tugged at his lips. Andy was leaning against the door frame. As she drew in a deep breath, he watched a wave of relief roll across her tear-stained face.<p>

The calmness Sam felt at that moment was in sharp contrast to what he had been feeling not thirty minutes before when he woke up alone in his room. His anxiety at the forefront, he had barely registered the pain in his left side. It seemed like only a dull ache compared to the increasing confusion and uneasiness at not knowing what had happened since his last memory in the ambulance. His predominant thought had been that he needed to see Andy. He needed to hear her voice. He just needed her.

As those thoughts had consumed Sam, a bevy of medical professionals paraded through his room, seemingly pleased with his progress and the fact that he was awake earlier than anticipated. One particular nurse, however, captured his full attention when she explained that someone matching Andy's description briefly stepped out to get something to eat but had otherwise been by his side since he came out of surgery. Armed with this new information, he assumed she would be back and settled down to wait for her as a feeling of peace washed over him. No matter what had happened since he lost consciousness, she had been there and that was all that mattered to him in that moment.

Now, watching her standing in the doorway, he processed feelings he hadn't experienced for some time. Happiness mixed with . . . contentment? He almost didn't recognize the emotions because it had been so long since he'd felt them.

Having changed out of her uniform at some point, she was wearing jeans and a sweater. Her hair was down now, too, and as usual, he thought she looked amazing.

As Sam focused his unwavering gaze on Andy, he willed her to move closer. Seemingly able to read his mind, she approached the edge of the bed tentatively.

He opened his mouth to speak but his throat felt scratchy. He didn't know what to say anyway, so he reached for her hand, pulling her until she sat down on the edge of his bed.

"It's spaghetti and meatballs day in the cafeteria. I made one quick run down there to get something to eat and, of course, you woke up while I was gone. Great timing as always," she teased him as her lips curved in to a small smile. "How are you feeling? Are you in any pain?"

"I've had better days," Sam admitted hoarsely, mirroring her smile. He could tell she'd been crying and although it pained him to think about what she must have gone through, knowing those tears had been shed for him left him feeling strangely connected to her. After feeling detached from her for so long, the sight of her puffy, red eyes was one of the most beautiful images he'd ever seen.

He wanted to finish their broken conversation from the ambulance but didn't know how to begin. And then he didn't have the chance to say anything because a new nurse made her way in to the room and presented herself on the opposite side of his bed.

"So you're awake," the nurse confirmed cheerfully. "If she could just step back for a few minutes, we'll do our thing and leave you to rest for a while before the doctor comes back in." Another nurse appeared in the room towing a small cart behind her.

"I want to talk," Sam told Andy pointedly, making eye contact with her as she slid down in to a chair not too far from his bed.

Andy quirked an eyebrow at him. "Really? _You_ want to talk?"

He rolled his eyes and smiled. "I know. It's a stretch."

The nurses finished what they needed to do, which thankfully included supplying Sam with some much-needed ice chips to soothe his scratchy throat, and left them alone again. Andy went back to her position on the side of his bed. Apparently at a loss for words, she seemed to conclude that she should go with her default and started rambling. "Everyone has been really worried about you. Frank has been here twice. Noelle, Traci, Dov, Chris and Gail have all been by at some point. And of course, Oliver is upstairs in his own room, but he's had Celery come down to check on you several—"

"McNally, shhhh," he said firmly.

"Did you just 'shish' me?" She laughed, awarding him one of her brightest smiles and almost stopping his heart in the process. He _loved_ her smiles. And he'd missed them so much. More than that, though, he'd missed having them aimed at him.

"I did," he responded smugly. "It's close to impossible to shut you off when you start flapping your gums." A deep laugh resonated from his chest when Andy scowled at him. As he laughed, he felt the pain from his injury but tried to ignore it. He probably needed more pain meds, but he wanted to be lucid while he had the chance to talk to her.

"You know I still love you, too, right?" Sam quietly confessed. As the words escaped his lips he felt an overwhelming sense of relief—relief that he had finally spoken what was in his heart to the only person who had ever made him feel this way.

"I didn't know until you were leaving the station. I didn't know."

Sam knew he had a good poker face. He had never loved anyone the way he loved her and yet he'd done his best to convince himself and her that his feelings had changed. At the time, it seemed like the best course of action, but now he berated himself for his bad judgment in leading her to believe he no longer loved her.

"I can't believe how I've screwed up everything," he muttered, his voice thick with disappointment.

Andy took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "We're both to blame. Even though I thought it was the right thing to do at the time, I shouldn't have left to go undercover. It was shortsighted and I have a lot of regrets about that decision. I lost you because of it." Her eyes were on his the entire time she was speaking. It was the most honest they had been with each other in—well, in forever.

After a year of pain, Sam wanted to tell her everything that was going through his mind. Ironically, his mind finally wanted to talk about what was in his heart and his body was unwilling to cooperate. He was starting to fade and he knew he wasn't going to be coherent for much longer.

"There's more . . ." he tried to explain weakly, his eyes begging hers for understanding.

"It's enough. Enough for now. You need to rest," she told him and squeezed his hand again. "I appreciate that you want to talk about this, but don't get crazy on me here. You don't have to go from zero to one hundred in one day."

He smiled at her faintly and relaxed back in to his pillow.

"So where does this leave us now?" He asked slowly, shifting his gaze up to the ceiling.

"Well, we've both got a lot to think about. I meant what I said in the ambulance. I love you." She paused when he brought his eyes back to hers. "Our feelings for each other are only one thing, though. We still need to figure out if we can move forward and how we do that. I need to step back and process everything that's happened. And I want you to do the same. For the moment, the primary focus should be on getting you back to your irresistibly charming self." She smiled at him and rubbed her thumb lightly across the back of his hand.

Sam nodded minutely and sighed, resigning himself to what he had predicted she would say. As much as he wanted a quick fix—as much as he wanted the certainty of knowing he had a future with her _right now_—they had done some damage to themselves and others and if they were going to have a chance to make things work, it wasn't going to be immediate. "Andy, I've spent a year going down the wrong path, and what that's taught me is that I want to move forward. _With you_. Take whatever time you need, but you should know I'm serious about my feelings and that more than anything, I want there to be an 'us' at the end of it all."

Andy beamed at him, and he knew that for once, he'd actually said exactly the right thing at exactly the right time.

"So in the meantime, what do you say to being friends?" She suggested, reminding them both of their shared history.

He chuckled wryly. "Okay, McNally. We'll be _friends_."

Laughing at the light sarcasm in his voice, she clarified, "Okay, okay. How about friends who need to pull themselves together first so they can have more?"

"A bit wordy but definitely better," he conceded. "I guess that'll have to do." As he shifted in bed he grumbled about the pain.

Smiling indulgently at him, Andy said, "It looks like cranky Sam is going to be making an appearance soon, which means I need to leave you in the capable hands of the nursing staff."

"What do you mean 'cranky?' I thought you said I was irresistibly charming," he mumbled as his eyes started to close.

"You have your moments. I'll see you tomorrow and we'll talk more," she promised. She dropped his hand and moved hers to his cheek, resting it there. He leaned in to the soft warmth of her touch and opened his eyes so that he could fully look at her. Resting his hand on top of hers, he rubbed small circles on her skin with his fingers. Andy blushed and looked down self consciously.

"I'll see you tomorrow, McNally," he said with a sleepy sigh as she reclaimed her hand and stood up to leave, turning to flash him a full smile as she walked to the door.

Sam watched her until she was gone. He felt better than he had in a long time. He wanted more with her. As he had admitted to himself recently, he wanted everything with her. He finally had a chance and as she had told him, it was enough.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to everyone for all the nice reviews and messages. You guys are great.**

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><p>As Andy took the elevator down to the hospital lobby, she allowed herself to experience a release from the panic and fear that had gripped her since Sam was shot the night before. In spite of the many lingering complications and issues with them, her world became solid again the moment she saw his eyes staring back at her from his hospital bed. He grounded her. He always had.<p>

So it was with some trepidation that she left him. She knew he needed to rest, though, and she also wanted to check in at the station. In spite of her involvement in the events of the prior day, Frank, Luke and Traci (at least in her capacity as detective) had thankfully left her alone, allowing her to focus completely on Sam while she waited for him to wake up post-surgery. Now that he was awake, it was only a matter of time before they became more persistent in their attempts to get her in to the station to give a statement, so she decided to act preemptively and stop by on her way home. As tired and overwhelmed as she felt, she really needed to talk to Nick, too. He'd also left her alone while she was with Sam, only texting once to ask if she needed anything. She knew he was probably hurting and confused, and she owed him enough to try to sort things out between them.

As Andy made her way through the hospital lobby she sent a text to Frank and a few other people to let them know Sam was awake. Just as she hit Send, Nick abruptly fell in to step beside her. "What are you doing here?" she asked with a tentative smile, surprise evident in her tone.

"I wanted to be here in case you needed me." An awkward silence settled in as they made their way through the front entrance. Finally, he asked, "How's Swarek?"

"Better. He's awake now, and his doctors are pretty optimistic for a full recovery. Apparently, the internal damage was minimal. He was lucky. An inch or two higher and it could have been much worse," she explained, feeling uncomfortable discussing Sam with Nick. She chastised herself for creating such a mess of her romantic life.

"Let me give you a ride," he offered, steering her toward his truck gently. "Where are you headed?"

"I was planning to go check in at the station and then maybe track you down to talk." It looked like the talk was going to come first now. Exhaustion sat heavily on her as she thought about the conversation she needed to have with Nick. Waiting until she was more fully-functional would be ideal, but it didn't seem fair to Sam or Nick.

"You're tired," Nick observed as he unlocked the door and waited for her to climb in.

"A little," she admitted with a shrug.

After sliding in on the driver's side, Nick eyed Andy from across the truck. He started the ignition to get the heat running but left it in park as he fidgeted with the steering wheel. Hesitantly, he interrupted her thoughts by clearing his throat. "Detective Callaghan also suggested that it might be a good idea for me to talk to you about recent events before you give any statements."

She regarded him with a quizzical expression.

"Apparently, Cruz is taking the blame for the whole thing. In her statement she said she hadn't told anyone about her diagnosis and that she acted alone to cover up her involvement in the unauthorized Ford investigation. She even copped to changing the log book. Callaghan wanted to make sure you were aware of that before you gave your statement."

Andy sucked in a breath at what he'd just told her. "Nick, I can't let her do that. I was involved in this, too, and I can't let her take all the blame. If I'd come forward with my knowledge that she was bipolar all of this might have been avoided. And I never should have falsified that log book."

"Andy, look," Nick said, shifting to face her. "There are a lot of 'what ifs' here. The bottom line is that you kept a confidence because she asked you to do it. You were covering for a fellow officer. You didn't know she was investigating Ford until it was too late. And you don't know that disclosing her condition would have changed anything. If anyone is responsible it's Cruz. Actually, I'd say Abe Ford has a bigger stake than she does."

"Abe Ford?" she questioned, confusion etched across her face.

"Yeah. Cruz figured it all out just before Ford shot Swarek. Abe Ford was actually the one responsible for the disappearance of the kid several years ago. He allowed his brother to be implicated and didn't even step up when he knew the guy was spiraling out of control. Out of everyone, his actions led to his brother's death more than anything else."

Andy didn't know what to say. She couldn't process any more information. She didn't want Marlo taking all the blame on herself, but she wasn't sure what to do about it at that point. "Nick, what am I supposed to do?"

"Well, Sergeant Best wants you to come in so Callaghan can take your statement, but he wants to speak to you first. So I guess you just take it as it comes," he advised.

Nick and Andy were silent for a while. For her part, she was looking for a way to open the door on the inevitable relationship discussion. Finally, she sighed, "Nick, I don't even know how to start or what to say."

"There's nothing to say, Andy," he told her pragmatically. "I get it. I don't like it but it's not like it's a huge surprise."

She raised an eyebrow at him curiously.

"Come on, Andy. You and I have spent a lot of time together. I know you've worked hard to convince yourself that you've moved on, but anyone who knows you well can see that you're still in love with him."

Nick's last statement hung in the air between them. "If you were so sure of that why did you want to be in a relationship with me?" she asked quietly.

"I had hope," he explained. "Hope that you would grow to care about me the way I care about you. I felt like I had a head start on you. Andy, I've had feelings for you for a long time," he admitted, staring straight ahead. "I think you know that. I thought if you just had a chance to see how good we could be together we might be able to build something great."

"Nick, that sounds so nice," Andy sighed. "Really nice, actually." She paused, knowing she was shutting the door on their future with what she was about to say. She had created such an impossible situation for herself. No matter what she did, someone was going to get hurt. "I wish I could be that person for you, but I'm not. And it sucks because I care about you so much. You're _amazing_."

After a few seconds of silence, he agreed, "That's true. I am amazing." He was joking, but Andy could see the hurt behind his self-satisfied smile. "So you and Swarek again, huh? Back together?"

"Um-I wouldn't say that exactly. I don't know what we are right now. Maybe friends."

Nick laughed at her statement. "Andy, you and Swarek are _not _just friends. I know I came late to the party, but I doubt you were ever just friends."

"That sounds like something he would say," she mumbled with a small smile.

"Swarek's a good guy," Nick conceded diplomatically.

When Andy looked at him skeptically he admitted, "Okay, okay, so maybe that's not exactly how I feel about him. The guy did take a bullet for me, though, so I feel like I owe him something. I hate how he's treated you, but then again, I've done things in relationships that I'm not proud of, too. So who am I to judge?"

"How are you so great?" Andy marveled, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Yeah, yeah . . . . Enough with the flattery," he responded with mock humility. "Seriously, though. If he breaks your heart or hurts you, just remember that I'll be here no matter what."

"Okay, you need to stop talking, Nick. You're making me feel like the worst person in the world," she laughed.

"Andy, you're not the _worst_ person. I mean, I'm sure there are one or two people who are worse than you, especially if we're talking about the entire world," he informed her with a grin.

Laughing, Andy punched him lightly in the upper arm.

"Ouch! You're not supposed to kick a man while he's down!"

"So how long do you plan to milk this?" she asked with a raised eyebrow and a smile.

"Definitely for the foreseeable future," he promised as he put his truck in drive and headed for the station.

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><p>Three hours later Andy slipped the key in to the lock of her condo and headed straight for the bedroom. She was coasting on fumes. As she thought back over the past few hours she didn't know if she should feel extremely lucky, as Frank yelled at her repeatedly, or if she should feel horrible that someone else had been left completely holding the bag. Mostly, she just felt drained. Marlo would most likely be fired. Sam, Chloe and Oliver were all laid up in the hospital. She'd gotten an update about Chloe from Chris while she was at the station, and it seemed like the husband had been persuaded to back off. That meant Chloe would be able to get the surgery and Dov was being allowed back in to see her again.<p>

As for Andy, she was on an "unofficial" suspension, which, according to Frank, meant she was "damn lucky" there was no evidence to make it an official suspension. Basically, an unofficial suspension meant Frank had assigned her to desk duty for the next two months. His reasons for this were threefold. First, he could keep a very close eye on her to make sure she didn't screw up again. Second, with so many officers down, Frank needed all hands on deck and couldn't afford to have her out. And third and most importantly, as Frank again yelled, she would have time to think about how she'd be out of a job if anything like this ever happened again.

How Frank even knew about what had happened was a mystery to her, especially because no one who knew about their involvement had mentioned anything to him. She had to assume he was going on a strong hunch supported by some circumstantial evidence.

She quickly slipped in to pajama pants and a t-shirt, brushed her teeth and fell in to bed. As she was slipping off to sleep, a text came in. Glancing at her phone, she saw that it was from Sam. _Are you asleep?_

_Not yet. You caught me just in time. How are you feeling?_ She responded quickly, feeling the heat rising to her cheeks as her heart rate sped up.

_Feeling okay. Getting in some good naps. Pretty boring stuff. I want to see you. Soon._

She smiled at the last part. She wanted to see him, too. _Ditto. I'll be back in the morning. Do you need anything? BTW, that was "ditto" to wanting to see you. Not to napping._

_Nope. Don't need a thing. What are you wearing? _

_That does not sound like something one friend says to another._

_Come on! Where's your compassion? I just got shot._

_Fine. Three sweaters, a pair of sweatpants, wool socks._

_You are no fun, McNally. Just get over here in the morning._

_As soon as I wake up. _


	3. Chapter 3

After suffering through a revolving door of nurses and doctors during the course of the night, Sam eeked out a few hours of solid sleep and then woke up to an unpalatable tray of hospital cuisine. He chased that with a nap to recover from the night's festivities and then woke up to a most unwelcome sight. Callaghan was perched in McNally's chair. True, it wasn't technically _her_ chair, but she was the one he wanted sitting in it. Frank, Noelle or any of rookies other than Epstein would be fine, too. But he was definitely not okay with Callaghan being there.

"Good morning," Luke greeted Sam's scowling face.

Wanting to be closer to eye level with his "guest," Sam pushed the button to raise the top half of his bed until he was almost sitting. With the motion, the pain in his side increased and he winced. "Callaghan. What can I do for you?" Sam asked with an appraising stare, assuming he was there to address the Kevin Ford situation.

Luke smirked, probably guessing that the root of Sam's irritation lay in the fact that instead of finding Andy sitting in the chair beside his bed, he'd gotten an eyeful of Luke Callaghan instead.

"How're you feeling, Sammy?"

"Never better. I'm assuming you're not just here for a status report . . . ." Sam growled impatiently, wanting to forgo the pleasantries and get to the meat and potatoes as soon as possible.

"Not really, but it's certainly nice to see you up and running," Luke supplied, traces of sarcasm slipping through his otherwise pleasant demeanor. "I wanted to talk to you about the Ford matter. Has Andy filled in the gaps for you?"

"We didn't talk much shop while she was here, and she hasn't been by yet today," Sam offered with a shrug of his shoulders. Then, because he didn't want to spend a lot of time dancing around the issues, he decided to toss it out there. "McNally didn't do anything wrong. I used my influence as a superior officer—"

"Woah," Luke stopped him, sitting up straight in the chair and putting up his hands to stop Sam from going any further. "Slow down. I know she didn't do anything wrong," he said with a meaningful look at Sam. "I just wanted to let you know that Officer Cruz gave her statement yesterday morning." Seeing that he had Sam's attention, he sat back in the chair again. "She was extremely forthcoming about the fact that she hid her diagnosis from _everyone_ and that as a result, she became consumed with an unauthorized investigation in to Kevin Ford. She was very firm in pointing out that she _alone_ covered up her involvement with Kevin Ford when she found out about his assault a few weeks ago. Nash is planning to come in later to take your statement if you're feeling up to it, but I wanted to bring you up-to-speed first." Again, he shot Sam a not-so-subtle look. "Given that Cruz ultimately did solve the underlying case, revealing the brother to be the actual pedophile, it would be nice if they'd go easy on her, but I assume she'll be asked to resign if she hasn't already done so voluntarily."

Sam stared at Luke, absorbing what had just been said. Finally, he locked on to the only unfamiliar piece of information in Luke's recitation. "Marlo figured out that the brother was the guilty party in the initial case?"

"Yeah, she did. She and Collins nailed it down right before you got shot. We still had Abe Ford at the station, so we hauled him back in for questioning. He broke down when confronted and ultimately admitted to everything. Kind of a shame because all of this could probably have been avoided if he hadn't allowed his brother to be implicated for his own crime in the first place . . . ."

"Huh," was all Sam could manage. And then, "That wasn't what I expected." He had been prepared to shoulder as much of the blame as he could. He knew it was inevitable that Marlo would be held responsible but he had hoped to shelter Andy as much as possible. Now, it seemed Marlo had taken the fall and Callaghan had decided to go along with her. "Why didn't you tell Frank what you knew?" Sam asked.

"You know why," Luke responded coolly, locking eyes with Sam. "She and I may be in the past, but I still care about her and want what's best for her. Sending her career on a tailspin because she was trying to protect a fellow officer is definitely not what's best for her. As far as protecting you . . . well, you got lucky because your wagon was hitched to hers." Luke grinned slyly. "And I don't just mean with the Kevin Ford case."

Sam nodded. "Thanks, Callaghan," he forced out. "You should know that I care very little about what happens to me as long as she's happy. When it comes to her, I think we can both agree that her happiness is the most important thing."

"Yes, we can," Luke said, standing up to leave. As he walked toward the door, he stopped and added, "And just so you know, Collins and Nash gave their statements about what happened at Officer Cruz's place and they confirmed the truth of everything Cruz said. They didn't seem to recall any involvement by you or Andy."

Sam didn't want to think about Collins covering up Andy's involvement. It stung to know that he was protecting her, too. For the moment, though, he tried not to focus on Andy's relationship with Collins. He knew it would make him crazy.

As Luke walked through the door he turned back slowly and seemed unable to resist one parting shot at Sam. "I assume you and Andy will eventually find your way back together. At least, it seems inevitable . . . ."

Sam sent Luke his best "give me a break" expression. This was not a conversation he intended to have. Luke seemed intent on it, though, as he ignored Sam's attempt to intimidate him in to submission and forged ahead with what he wanted to say.

"Don't hurt her this time," he offered, running a hand across his face and grimacing, as if he weren't sure he should be saying what he was saying. "You do get that it was always you, right? As much as I didn't want to admit it at the time and still don't, you had her from the beginning. I just want to make sure you know that and appreciate what you have so you don't screw it up if she decides to give you another chance." And with that, he was gone, leaving Sam staring at an empty doorway.

_Did_ he know that? On some level he supposed he did, but it was always more of a wish than a certainty. The idea of it gave Sam hope, which wasn't something he'd ever expected to come from a conversation with Callaghan. He decided maybe he could try to like the guy. But only a little bit. He didn't want to get crazy about it.

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><p>Not long after Luke left, Sam looked up to see Andy shaking her head at him from the doorway. He was grumbling as a nurse attempted to take his blood pressure. As soon as the nurse finished she made a hasty exit from the room, mumbling under her breath as she went. "Morning," he greeted Andy with a sheepish grin.<p>

"Terrorizing the nursing staff? Really, Sam?" She shot him a look of amusement as she shrugged off her coat and sat on the edge of his bed.

"They won't leave me alone," he whined. "I'm supposed to be resting and they came in every hour last night and woke me up to check on me."

"That's their job! You don't honestly think they're singling you out to pick on you, do you?" She laughed at him, shaking her head in astonishment.

"I'm thinking maybe they are," Sam admitted stubbornly.

She looked at him in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Oliver came down late last night to check on me. He was reading through my chart at the end of the bed and saw a notation that said I was 'fussy and difficult.' Fussy and difficult?! Does that sound like me?" His voice went up an octave as he finished relating the last part.

The room echoed with the sound of Andy's uncontrollable laughter. "Nooo. I don't know _what_ they're talking about," she assured him before dissolving in to another fit of hysterics.

"I'm glad you find me so amusing," he said dryly, but a slight quirk of his mouth betrayed the fact that he appreciated the humor in the situation. How could he not? He had Andy back in his life and he was truly happy for the first time in a long time.

When she finally calmed down, Andy's focus seemed to shift to Sam's ever-expanding collection of flowers and balloons. "Someone has a lot of admirers," she mused, getting up to examine some of them. He'd amassed an impressive assortment of Get Well Soon balloons and several flower arrangements. Oliver and Celery even sent him a cookie bouquet. Of course, Sam knew this was really just Oliver's way of sending himself a snack to eat during his next visit.

Andy approached a plant on the window sill without a card, running her fingers along one of the leaves. "This one's nice."

"Yeah, that one's from Marlo. I took off the card because she had written a note on it," he said slowly, waiting for her to turn and look at him.

"Oh yeah?" was all she said. She did move back toward the bed to sit down, though, so he figured she probably wanted to know more even if she wasn't specifically asking. He took her hand and held it tightly to anchor her in place. Talking never came easily to him, so if he were going to put in the effort, he wanted to make sure she stayed put.

"I called her last night and we talked. She's back at her sister's place, and I think she eventually plans to move to Miami." At Andy's questioning expression, he explained, "She has friends there."

"Is she coming to see you?" Andy asked quietly.

"I don't think so," he answered, trying to gauge her reaction. "Andy, Marlo and I are finished. If I'm being honest, we've been finished for a while." He paused, assessing her reactions and wondering how far he should take the conversation. "When Diaz's son got kidnapped, you were right when you accused me of making it personal. It bothered me a lot to think of you and Collins like that—at the park with kids. I could see you building a future with someone else. After that, I realized my heart just wasn't in the relationship with Marlo. She had other things going on—_obviously_. When you called me that day to tell me you thought she was in trouble, I hadn't even spoken to her for a few days. Our conversation last night was really short, and I think it was clear to both of us that we're finished."

"Okay." She said simply, but a small smile was emerging on her face. "Did you know she took all the blame for what happened with Ford? Sam, she didn't even tell anyone we knew about her diagnosis."

"I know. Callaghan was here this morning. He filled me in."

"Luke? He came to see _you_?"

Sam chuckled at the skepticism on her face. "Why does that surprise you? Callaghan and I go way back."

"Sure you do—but not in a good way. Certainly not in a 'visit me in the hospital' kind of way," she informed him with a laugh.

"Okay, so he came in to tell me how everything played out because he wanted to make sure I didn't give the statement he knew I was probably going to give."

"You were going to try to take all the blame, of course," she supplied matter-of-factly.

Sam's expression confirmed that he had been planning to do just that. "What about you? How did it go with you? I'm assuming you went in to give a statement."

She grimaced. "That part went fine. Unfortunately, I had to talk to Frank first. He seemed to suspect I had some involvement even though no one said anything to him."

"Yeah, Frank's no idiot. He pays attention to what's going on. Wouldn't be good at his job if he didn't."

"Basically, there was a lot of yelling—from him, not me—and then he placed me on an 'unofficial suspension.'" She told him, air quoting "unofficial suspension."

"What the hell is that?" he choked out, holding back a laugh. Clearly, Frank had made up a punishment for her.

"_That_ means I'll be on desk duty for the foreseeable future, which is actually not all that bad. I deserve much worse."

"No you don't," Sam said emphatically, shaking his head. "Of course, I can't say that I'll be all that upset that you'll be hanging around the building more when I go back to work." He winked at her and squeezed her hand. "That is, if I still have a job. If Frank yelled at you and 'unofficially suspended' you, I wonder what he'll do to me."

"Maybe he'll take pity on you because you got shot," she offered.

"Seems unlikely, but here's hoping, McNally." As he rubbed the back of her hand Sam cleared his throat, searching for the courage to ask about the other thing he really wanted to know. "So, you and Collins . . . . What's the story there?"

"There is no story. Well, not anymore, anyway." As Andy explained the understanding she and Nick had reached Sam tried to contain his happiness. He hadn't been sure she'd actually end things with Collins for him. A part of him had been afraid they were on their way to a rerun of her relationship with Callaghan, and the thought of going through that again dredged up all sorts of past hurt. But this time, she had actually chosen him, and it felt incredible.

"Talking it over with him was really just a formality. I mean, a guy would be hard-pressed to stay with a girl who took off in an ambulance with her ex without so much as a 'catch you later,'" Andy rambled on.

"True. I can see how that would be a problem," Sam acknowledged.

"So now we're going to try being friends again, and I guess we'll see what happens."

Sam piped up. "Wait. Do mean you're going to be friends or _friends_?"

"What are you talking about?" She asked with a laugh. "What's the difference?"

"You know what I mean, McNally," he said sarcastically. "Friends or _friends_?"

She laughed even harder at his annoyed expression. "Nick and I are going to be just friends. Does that clarify things for you?"

"And what are we?" As Sam asked the question, he searched her eyes.

"Oh, we're definitely _friends_," she said suggestively, which earned her a pleased look from Sam.

"Well, since we're _friends_, does that mean you're going to visit me every day while I'm in here?"

"That depends," she began. "If I visit you every day, will you promise not to be so grouchy?" She smiled at him to soften the blow.

"Grouchy? That doesn't sound like me," he remarked. Then, when she continued staring at him, he gruffly said, "Fine. Fine. Yes, I will try to be a tiny bit more upbeat. Don't expect miracles, though, McNally."


	4. Chapter 4

I really appreciate all the reviews, favorites, follows, etc. We're getting out of the hospital in the next chapter. I promise.

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><p>"So, I hear you've been delivering baked goods to the nurses' station," Sam teased Andy as she entered his room and sat down in the chair near his bed. It was the end of his first full week in the hospital and Sam had initiated a countdown to his discharge in a few days.<p>

"Well, someone had to butter them up, and it certainly wasn't going to be you," she pointed out. "Has it worked?"

"If you mean have they stopped interrupting my sleep at all hours of the night, that would be a 'no.' Maybe you should host a barbecue for them."

"Now you're just being ridiculous," she informed him with an amused smile on her face.

"What's _ridiculous_ is that you're way over there in that chair. Come here," he motioned to her impatiently.

After pretending to give his request serious consideration, Andy relented with a grin and moved to the edge of the bed, the top half of which had been raised to a 45-degree angle. Sam took one of her hands, tugging her toward him as he moved over in the bed to make room for her. She slid in beside him and stretched out her legs alongside his.

Feeling like he couldn't get her close enough, he put an arm around her and pulled her in even closer. She laid her hand on his chest and slid down until her head was on his shoulder. It was a small gesture, but when Sam felt the light pressure of her hand resting on his chest he smiled to himself.

"Andy, I'm really sorry," he began hesitantly but stopped when she moved her hand up to his mouth, silencing him by pressing her fingers to his lips gently.

"We're both sorry. We both did things that hurt each other. I don't want you beating yourself up about it," she told him, her head still resting on his shoulder.

He moved her hand back down to his chest and continued, "Just let me get this out, okay?"

"Fine. Suit yourself, but I'm telling you it's not necessary."

"Yes, it is," he insisted. When she remained quiet, he drew in a breath and started talking. "I was the one who set the whole thing in motion. My first bad decision was obviously breaking up with you and everything I've done since then has only made things worse. When you left me in the parking lot that night after Ford was assaulted, that was one of the lowest points of my life. I knew I'd ruined everything and there was no way to come back from it."

She rubbed his chest lightly. "_I'm_ actually sorry about that. I lashed out because I was angry and hurt. In spite of everything I couldn't believe I was still so willing to do whatever you asked. I was furious with myself and with you," she admitted. "I mean, here I was going to great lengths to protect my ex who, by all appearances, was in love with someone else. I felt like the biggest fool."

"Andy, I wasn't in love with her," Sam quickly clarified.

"But I _thought_ you were," she sighed.

"I knew how it looked but at that point I wasn't sure how to fix it or if I should even bother to try. I'd been watching you and Collins getting closer and I could see you were moving on," he confessed, thinking about how hopeless he felt as she walked away from him that night, knowing he'd probably lost her for good.

"You know, we're kind of a mess," Andy observed lightly.

"That we are," he agreed, letting out a low chuckle. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head before asking, "If we try 'us' again—and I know I want to—do you think you'll be able to trust me not to leave? Are you going to have faith in the fact that I'm one hundred percent committed to this?" Sam knew she'd always had a fear of being left and that's exactly what he'd done to her. He wondered if it were even possible to repair the damage.

"I could ask you the same question. I left, too," she reminded him. "Will you be able to trust me not to leave again? For my part, I really want to say yes, and that's something, right? Maybe we can just take it slowly and see how things go. You know, start by acknowledging that we want to be together and try to build something that's even better than what we had before. I'll probably always be afraid of being left behind; it's part of who I am. I trust you, though, and to me, you're worth the risk."

Her answer was more than he'd hoped for when he asked the question. "You need to know that I'm never letting you go again, Andy. I realize these are just hollow words without the strength of my actions to back them up, but I'm going to show you I'm committed to making us work."

"Me, too," she agreed quietly.

A comfortable silence descended on the two of them as he moved his hand to rest atop hers on his chest.

After a while, they both dozed off, his head falling over on top of hers.

That's how Oliver found them when he walked through the door. "Aren't you guys cute?" he whispered to their sleeping forms as he sat back in the chair and turned on the television to wait.

A hospital employee delivered Sam's dinner and unfortunately, the covered plate was now tantalizingly close to Oliver. Just as his hand snaked over to open the cover and inspect the contents, Andy started to stir. That, in turn, woke up Sam. They sat up straight and smiled at each other almost shyly. Oliver quickly cleared his throat before something more awkward could happen between them. "Soooo, things are going well," he greeted them with a satisfied grin.

"Oliver," Sam acknowledged. "How long have you been sitting here like a stalker?"

"Almost the length of one really bad talk show. On the plus side, though, I now know entirely too much about spring fashions and dressing for my body type."

Sam and Andy were both smiling at him. "I gotta say . . . you guys are freaking me out a little bit with all the happiness. Don't get me wrong—I'm over the moon about it, but there's a bit of a Stepford vibe going on here."

"Yeah, well, you're visiting _us_, so you take what you get," Sam replied dryly.

"Ouch," Oliver responded. "Clearly hospitalization is not agreeing with some people."

Andy laughed at the scowl on Sam's face. "How are you feeling, Oliver?" she asked him. He was still out on medical leave, so she hadn't seen him since he left the hospital, although he'd been by to visit Sam several times when she wasn't there.

"Better every day. How 'bout you, Sammy? Feeling better?" Oliver asked, still eyeing the tray of food.

"Getting there. I can't wait to get out of here, man." Then, as if reading Oliver's thoughts he added, "Don't even think about touching my dinner."

"I can't believe you think so little of me!" Oliver laughed, pretending to take offense. "So are you still on track to be released in a few days?"

"I think so. Sooner would be better, but it seems like the doctors are determined to keep me here as long as they can."

"I'm sure they just want you around for your sparkling personality."

Not long after that, Oliver excused himself with the promise of checking in on Sam again the next day. By that time, Sam was itching to have Andy all to himself again. When he turned away from Oliver's retreating form, though, he noticed that she seemed nervous. "What?" he asked immediately, wondering what was responsible for the change from relaxed and happy to anxious.

"I really want to ask you something, but I don't want you to think I'm prying," she muttered, scanning his face self-consciously.

"Out with it," he coaxed her, rubbing her shoulder with the arm that was still wrapped around her. Knowing Andy, anything could be percolating in her brain. Sam knew he had been less than forthcoming when they were together before and that was something he wanted to do differently the second time around. Opening up to someone else was difficult for him, but he wanted her to know him.

"Okay," she agreed reluctantly. "It's just something I've been curious about. You don't have to answer if you don't want to. I was wondering if your sister had been in to see you," she finally forced out.

Sam ran his free hand along his jaw line. "She doesn't know I'm here," he explained slowly.

When he looked at Andy he saw that her anxious expression had dissolved in to one of openness and patience as she waited for him to continue. He closed his eyes and sighed as a small smile crept across his lips. This was it. This was what he'd been looking for when he tried to share details of his past with Marlo. At the time, it felt so unnatural and wrong that he hadn't attempted to share anything important with her again. He gained no satisfaction or fulfillment from talking to Marlo. If anything, he felt worse—a deeper level of insecurity than he felt before he told her anything. But now, sitting beside Andy, he wasn't apprehensive at all. He wasn't worried that she wouldn't be able to handle the information he was going to tell her. He just needed her to know.

"She's not able to deal with something like this. Frank knows how to get in touch with her if it's absolutely necessary, but otherwise, I've always requested that she not be contacted when something happens. _This_," he explained, motioning to the room at large, "is beyond her. It would be too much. So I prefer to have her kept out of it. If I had d—if anything worse had happened to me—Frank would have contacted her. In general, though, it's better if things stay as consistent as possible in her life."

"Makes sense," was Andy's response as she angled her body toward him more and rested her head on his shoulder again. Sam could feel her warm breath on his neck. She laid her knees lightly on top of his legs as he pulled her in tightly against his body. If he had ever doubted she was the one for him—and to be honest, he'd known she was "it" since the day he met her—he was completely certain that she was now. He wondered why he'd been so afraid of this level of intimacy before when it seemed so natural now. Just having her here with him now made him feel whole again. He felt like the person he was supposed to be.


	5. Chapter 5

A week after his release from the hospital, Sam called Andy while she was on shift. "McNally, I want to take you out on a real date," he informed her as soon as she answered. He hoped she didn't hear the nervousness in his voice. He had picked up and put back his phone several times before finally telling himself he was being ridiculous and hitting Send. When he heard her voice, he just dropped the invitation on her before he could embarrass himself with a shaky attempt at small talk.

"Oh, a reeeeeal date," she responded playfully. "I could be up for that."

"_Could_ be? If you don't want to go, just say so. I'll move to the next girl on the list," he threatened, the levity in his tone making it clear that she was the only girl on his list.

"Of course I want to go," she blurted out in a rush, not even attempting to conceal her excitement.

"Woah. I know I'm irresistibly charming but try to control yourself," he joked.

Her laugh resounded through the phone. "So tell me more about this date," she said, getting down to business. That was McNally, always a details person.

Sam let out a breath and relaxed. He felt almost . . . well, he guessed it would best be described as giddy. Sam Swarek was giddy. He shook his head slowly at the thought. He felt like a teenager asking his high school crush to a dance.

And that was how he ended up on her doorstep the following evening with plans to take her to dinner and a movie. They hadn't spent any significant time together since before his release from the hospital. Andy had been scheduled for several consecutive double shifts, which meant she was at work when she wasn't sleeping. She'd been able to get away from the station to pick him up at the hospital—had insisted upon it, actually—but she'd had to leave almost as soon as she dropped him off at home.

When Andy opened the door a huge smile spread across Sam's face to match the one on hers. They stood in the doorway grinning stupidly at each other, neither one wanting to look away. For so long, their relationship had been defined by the walls between them—the breakup, her six-month absence, their other relationships—but now, a new freedom existed. There were no more restraints.

Finally, she broke the eye contact, looking down at her feet briefly. Her hands were shoved in the back pockets of her jeans, and she was blushing. A satisfied expression settled on Sam's face at the thought that he'd been responsible for that.

"Just give me a minute and we can go," she breathed out, pulling her hands from her pockets and moving toward the bedroom.

Sam gently pushed the door closed and walked in to her condo, surveying the living room. His gaze landed on a picture of Andy with the other rookies that was sitting on an end table. There were several other pictures scattered around the room and as he checked out each one he was relieved to find no photographic evidence of Andy and Collins together.

As if on cue, he noticed a large cardboard box against the wall with "NC" written on it in black ink. Quickly discerning that "NC" most likely stood for Nick Collins, his curiosity was piqued. Sam leaned over the open top nonchalantly. It looked like a bunch of clothes, but then, on closer inspection something interesting caught his attention. He reached in to the box just as Andy was coming back out of her bedroom carrying her jacket. With wide eyes, he pulled out a red string bikini top, holding it up with an appraising look. Images of Andy in a barely-there two piece assaulted his mind.

She giggled at his expression and explained, "Those were things from our cover apartment that the team packed up and sent back to us. Apparently, they weren't very thorough, though, and Nick and I ended up with a bunch of each other's stuff. I returned his months ago, but he just got around to bringing mine over yesterday after shift."

"Oh," Sam said simply, his mouth watering as he looked at what he was holding in his hand. "So Collins got to see you in this a lot?" he grimaced.

"Sure. Nick and a handful of low-level drug runners," she explained nonchalantly, but he was sure she could tell it bothered him. "Sam, we did a lot of hanging out at the lake as part of our assignment. It made sense that I did occasionally have to wear a swimsuit."

"We should take a vacation," he announced suddenly, letting the swimsuit fall back in to the box.

"Oh _really_," she said coyly. "How about a ski vacation? Or we could go snowshoeing. Wait, no, ice fishing," she suggested with a satisfied smile on her face.

He grunted, "Yeah, that's not what I had in mind. Unless they have a heated pool. Or maybe a hot tub."

"Okay, Big Guy. Let's just see how our first re-date goes before we go jumping in to any hot tubs together," she said, patting his chest. As her face dissolved in to a more serious expression, she took both of his hands in hers. "You do know nothing happened between Nick and me when we were undercover, right? I mean, we were a couple for show, but when we were alone at the apartment, it was completely platonic. We never even slept in the same bed. One of us had the couch every night."

"Well, I guess I wasn't completely sure, so it's nice to hear." Running his hands down his face, he continued, "Of course, I have no right to expect that you wouldn't have had anything going on because I started dating someone else."

Andy walked over to the couch and tossed her jacket on the back, sitting down on the right end. "I guess we're having this conversation now," she sighed. She motioned for him to join her and patted the cushion beside hers. "I mean, there's no time like the present, right? We might as well just get it all out there . . . ."

As he sat down hesitantly, she turned toward him and pulled her legs up underneath her body. Sam laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head, surprised the conversation had taken this turn but also relieved. As much as he dreaded the conversation, he wanted Andy to understand why he was with Marlo when she came back from her UC op.

He leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together. "You're turning me in to a talker, McNally. I've never been really good at all of this." The last part escaped his lips slowly as he rolled his head to the side and locked eyes with her, seeking understanding.

She smiled at him. "If, by 'this,' you mean 'talking,' I'm gonna have to give you that one. It really isn't your thing. You're getting better at it, though." She smiled at him reassuringly. "I've always seemed to have the opposite problem."

At that, he gave her a small smile and a confirming nod. Looking down at the coffee table, he tried to decide what to say to her.

"Over-sharing," she clarified what was obvious to both of them. "I tend to talk too much and ramble when I'm nervous. And honestly, I'm pretty nervous now, so you should be prepared. Unless, of course, you decide to forge ahead with whatever you want to say and put me out of my misery." She paused briefly and then began again when he said nothing. "Otherwise, I'll probably end up divulging something really horrifying about my life like how I bought my first training bra all by myself because my Mom had bailed on us and I was too nervous to ask my Dad." She rambled on and he turned his head toward her again. "It was hideous. The bra, I mean. Orange with green and yellow flowers all over it."

"Okay, okay. I get the point," he sighed with a low chuckle. "And you're right. That does sound like a really ugly bra."

She laughed, her cheeks coloring slightly.

Sam took a breath and sat back against the couch with his head turned toward her, tapping his thighs nervously. "What I was saying is that I have no right to be relieved you didn't get involved with Collins while you were away because I did get involved with someone.

"I know it looked like I just moved on and that our relationship wasn't important to me," he told her.

"Yes, it did," she affirmed quietly, looking down at the couch. "Coming back to see you with someone else was difficult for me. It hurt that you were able to replace me so easily."

"Andy, you have to know—if I had any hope that things weren't over between us, I would have waited."

"I know," she conceded, looking at him again. "As much as it bothered me—still bothers me—I do get it. And I take responsibility for my part in what happened. Looking back, I wish I had told you I was leaving and asked you to wait. My head just wasn't in the right place for that, though. I wanted to feel better, and I thought leaving would give me a chance for a fresh start away from all the hurt and anger. While I was gone, I did a really good job of convincing myself that I had moved on, but the second I saw you I knew I'd been lying to myself."

"Me, too," Sam agreed with a rueful smile. "Of course, I still couldn't admit that even after you were back. I just couldn't go down that road again. I was a mess for months after you left. Ask Oliver," he mumbled with an eye roll. Then, with more desperation in his voice, he continued, "Andy, when you left, I thought the door was shut on us. You have to believe that. I never would have started anything with Marlo if I had known we still had a chance. I wasn't over you. I'm _still_ not over you."

Andy reached out and took his hand. The sudden contact seemed to spur him along. "With Marlo, I thought I could fix the things I did wrong when we were together."

"Did it work?" she asked with a hint of a smile.

"Clearly not." He laughed wryly as a look of understanding passed between them.

Andy sighed. "Sam, you weren't the only one who did things wrong when we were together."

A contemplative expression crossed his face as he allowed himself to consider the possibility that maybe all the fault wasn't his. He knew it was in his nature to assume full responsibility when something went wrong. The idea that occasionally someone else might share the blame was a foreign one to him, and he decided to put a pin in that thought.

"Maybe not," he acknowledged, "but there were things I could have done better. I tried to be different with Marlo, but what I realized was that it didn't matter what I did because I wasn't with you.

"The irony is that by the time I came to terms with all of this, I noticed you and Collins had something going on. You seemed happy, so I didn't want to interfere. But watching you building something with someone else was killing me." Sam paused before forcing himself to ask, "Do you love him?"

"Not the way I love you. I'll never love anyone else that way."

Sam wondered if hearing her say those words would ever lose its effect on him. She seemed so confident about it, and that confidence was like a warm blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders. He never wanted to take it off.

"Nick's gotten me through some tough times and we've grown close to each other, but he doesn't make me feel the way you do. My relationship with Nick was about trying to be happy again because you were with Marlo and I had to move on. That's all it was."

Sam rested his arm along the back of the couch. Her hair grazed the back of his hand, and he reached over to toy with the ends of it.

"Hey, it's getting kind of late. Why don't we just order a pizza and watch a movie here," she suggested.

Shaking his head, he said emphatically, "No. I want to take you out."

"I know and you can," she soothed him, rubbing the arm that was on the back of the couch. "We'll just do it another night. You can wine me and dine me all you want. I'm not going anywhere."

"Fine. Pepperoni and green peppers?" he asked, pulling out his phone. When she nodded, he took some small comfort from the fact that as much as things had changed for them during the past year, at least her taste in pizza toppings hadn't.

When the pizza arrived they kicked back on the couch watching an old movie they'd both seen before, which was a good thing because Sam was barely concentrating on it and from the looks Andy kept giving him, he doubted she was either. As he sat with his arm draped over her shoulders they were "Sam and Andy" again and that just felt so unbelievably right.

When midnight rolled around, Sam got up reluctantly, reaching for his coat. "I need to go. It's getting late and you have work in the morning." He pulled her up from the couch by the hand and tugged her after him toward the door.

As he passed by the box from her UC assignment he couldn't resist sticking his free hand in and pulling out her bikini again. "Well, one thing is certain, McNally. It's pretty clear that your taste has improved since that first training bra," he teased her, dangling it from his index finger before tossing it back in to the box.

"Trust me. It has," she clarified with a raised eyebrow and a hint of seduction.

He didn't need to trust her. He remembered all too clearly. He reminded himself that they weren't at that place yet. They needed to get there soon, though, or he was going to lose his mind.

When Sam opened the door to leave, he stood on the threshold hesitantly, still holding her hand and wondering if he should kiss her. Andy must have sensed his reluctance because she inched in to his personal space, the quiet certainty in her eyes assuring him that she wanted the same thing he did. As Sam slid his hands up her sides, she reached up and threaded her fingers through the hair on the back of his head, pulling him down until their lips touched tentatively, testing the waters with a gentle kiss. The contact seemed to flip a switch, ratcheting up the tension between them. Needing more of her, he moved his hands to her cheeks, tracing her mouth with light kisses before taking them deeper. Lips brushed against lips hungrily in a feverish search for all they'd been missing while they were apart. Gradually, they slipped in to a more sultry rhythm as he pulled her firmly against him and they melted in to each other. Taking in a ragged breath, he finally drew back and rested his forehead against Andy's. "I need to go. I think it's a good idea," he mumbled.

"Okay. You're right," she whispered, sounding unconvinced as she nodded her head against his. "I want you to stay, but I doubt either of us is thinking clearly enough to make that decision right now."

"I'll talk to you tomorrow," he said with a reassuring smile, swiping his lips over hers and turning to go while he still could. Ten seconds more with her and he knew he wouldn't be able to leave.

"Goodnight, Sam." He turned back once to see her leaning against the door frame watching him go, and he knew he had a long, lonely night ahead of him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Last real chapter . . . . There is an Epilogue that I'll post in a few days. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing. You guys have been amazing.  
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><p>The morning after their second first kiss found Andy daydreaming at the desk when a hand passed through her line of sight.<p>

"Earth to Andy," Traci said with a laugh.

"Sorry, sorry," Andy mumbled, pulling her focus back to the present. "Did you need something?"

"That must have been some kiss last night. You've been zoned out for at least ten minutes."

Andy dropped her head on the desk and groaned. "It's all I can think about, Trace. What am I gonna do?"

"Call him," Traci stated simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "And do it soon. Frank has been eyeing you all morning, so you need to get your head back in the game."

"I don't want to seem too desperate," Andy admitted, lifting up her head and sinking back into her chair.

"Andy, this is Sam we're talking about. You could call him every five minutes for three days straight and he would _still_ want to talk to you. He loves you. You love him. Enough is enough. It's time to put up or shut up."

"You're right. You're right," Andy agreed. "I'm calling . . . ." she assured Traci, picking up her phone from the desk.

"I'm leaving . . . . Oh, and don't forget, you're coming out with all of us to the Penny tonight. You're overdue," Traci reminded her, walking backwards toward the detectives' office.

Andy nodded as she pressed Send on her phone.

"Hi," Sam answered after one ring.

"Hi," she responded shyly. "How are you feeling?"

"Not too bad for a guy being forced in to a life of leisure. It's 10 a.m. on a Wednesday morning and I'm sitting on the couch in my underwear drinking a cup of coffee. It's a pretty exciting life I'm leading these days."

"It's not forever," she reminded him, not for the first time. "You'll be back on the job soon."

"So I've heard. Speaking of the job, Frank called this morning. I'm coming back on light duty in a few weeks."

"Sam, that's great!" she said enthusiastically.

"He's sending me to see the shrink, though, which probably makes sense. I also got my 'unofficial suspension,'" he informed her. Clearing his throat, he said flatly, "Community outreach with Diaz every other week for the next six months."

"Nooooooooo," she breathed as wild peals of laughter filled the air.

Sam waited patiently for her to calm down before asking, "Are you at work?"

"Yeah, but Traci says my head's not in the game," she admitted with a smile.

"Oh _really._ Why's that?" he asked conspiratorially.

"Well . . . I had a pretty amazing date last night and I can't get the guy out of my head."

"Oh?" Sam responded and Andy could hear the smile in his voice. "Good kisser?"

"Extraordinary, actually. But unfortunately, he's got a bit of an ego on him."

"The good ones always do, McNally," he told her with a laugh. "So when do you think this extraordinarily good kisser will be able to see you again?"

"I was thinking he might show up at the Penny tonight," she suggested, hoping he'd feel up to being out in public. "I'm supposed to meet Traci and the guys there after shift. They tell me I've been preoccupied recently and that I owe them some time."

"The Penny it is then. We certainly don't want you to neglect the other rookies. And I could use a good excuse to get up off the couch anyway."

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><p>The second Sam entered the Penny, he caught Andy's eye. She sent him a dazzling smile from the rookie table, where she was sitting with Diaz and Nash. After that, he was quickly enveloped in a sea of handshakes and claps on the back as 15's finest propelled him to the bar and attempted to ply him with drinks. Deciding more than one drink was probably not the best thing for his recovery, Sam accepted several IOUs, which he definitely planned to cash in at a later date. Any attempts to extricate himself from the throng of well-wishers were unsuccessful. As he gritted his teeth and accepted the brief delay, he could now see that his plan to grab a beer and head straight for Andy had been short-sighted. Between conversations, he managed to catch her eye from across the bar several times, and he could see that she was deriving a great deal of enjoyment from watching him hold court with his fellow officers. She had to know he really just wanted to be with her.<p>

As Sam's drink continued its progression toward the bottom of the glass, he looked over to find an empty rookie table. Quickly scanning the Penny, he found Andy. She had vacated the table in favor of the dartboard and was playing a lively round with Collins, Nash and Diaz. From the celebratory cheers and fist bumps going around, he gleaned that she was paired with Collins against Nash and Diaz and that she and Collins were winning.

This was the first time he had been out in public with Andy since the shooting and the first time he hadn't had her all to himself. He was fine with that. He could share. He just wasn't sure how he felt about sharing her with Collins. Sam knew she and Collins ended the "more than friends" portion of their relationship, and he trusted Andy completely. Still, the mantra "they're just friends, they're just friends, they're just friends" was on auto-repeat in his head as he watched them.

He found himself staring at them almost constantly, which was making for very poor conversations with the other officers. More than once, he got a confused look when he trailed off mid-conversation. Andy and Collins seemed to have a great rapport with each other and if he didn't know the full story, he probably would have assumed they were dating. There was an ease between them that Sam hadn't had with her for a long time. As he continued observing them he started to wonder if maybe she would be happier with Collins.

Alone with his thoughts, he was making himself insane. As the crowd around him thinned out, he considered going over to her and breaking in to their game. He quickly dismissed that idea, though, because he didn't want to make her uncomfortable and more than that, he didn't want to seem too desperate. What he needed was air and room to breathe, so Sam quickly excused himself and made his way toward the door.

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><p>Andy had been watching Sam from across the Penny. He was engrossed in conversation with his fellow officers, all of whom seemed extremely excited to welcome him back. She briefly entertained the idea of going over to him, but even if she could break through the mass of groupies flanking him she wasn't sure if she should. She wanted him to have his moment. He deserved it after all he'd been through. So instead, she settled for sending him occasional smiles and glances as she watched him patiently chatting up everyone. As much as she wanted him with her in that moment, she reminded herself it was good for him to be out socializing after being cooped up for so long.<p>

Still, a girl could only be so patient, so when Traci decreed that a game of darts was in order, Andy made the internal decision that it was going to be the fastest game of darts in the history of the Penny. When that was finished, she planned to make a beeline for the bar no matter how many people were crowded around Sam. As they passed by Nick's table he joined them and offered to be her partner. With the exception of a handful of brief interactions, she'd been keeping Nick at a distance, thinking that a little separation might be a good thing for their friendship. After all, Sam had her heart and she only had room in her life for Nick as a friend. She didn't want any confusion on Nick's side about that. Knowing Nick, though, his offer to be her partner against Traci and Chris was probably an olive branch; he wanted her to know that their friendship was still intact and that they were going to be okay. So when he agreed to help her "mop up the floor with Diaz and Nash," Andy accepted his offer. She certainly appreciated his commitment to winning even though it seemed doubtful that they shared the common goal of speeding things along so that she could go over and put the moves on Sam. Whatever his motivation, Nick proved himself a worthy teammate. As they closed in on Chris and Traci, Andy planned her exit strategy. She loved spending time with her friends, but she really needed to be near Sam. Standing across the bar, he was like a magnet to her; she couldn't take her eyes off of him and just wanted to be by his side.

When he abruptly excused himself and started moving toward the door, Andy couldn't hide her confusion and bewilderment. She had assumed he would eventually make his way over to her if she didn't get to him first, but instead, he was leaving. And he didn't look happy. Her heart plummeted to her feet as she watched him walk out the door.

Andy told Traci and the guys she had to go and quickly grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair as she rushed by their table. She made her way out of the bar at a lightning-fast pace, hoping Sam hadn't already reached his truck. Instead, she almost collided with him when she pushed through the door and found him standing just outside with his back to her. She touched his shoulder lightly and he turned to face her, confusion and intensity etched on his face.

"What happened? Why did you leave?" she asked, her voice thick with worry.

"I couldn't watch you and Collins in there together," he confessed immediately, moving away from the door to lean against the wall. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, and he was looking down at the pavement. "I wasn't leaving, though. I just needed some air."

Hearing that he hadn't been planning to leave was like a steady, calming hand on Andy's shoulder. She relaxed, knowing that as much as he probably wanted to get away from the situation, he stayed. That was what was important to her, and it gave her hope for their future.

"Sam," she said seriously, moving in front of him. She fisted the front of his shirt and pulled him close to her. "I love you. I only want to be _together_ with _you_."

"I know," he responded, resting his forehead against hers. "It's what I want, too. But when I saw you with him you seemed like a couple. You seemed happy. Watching you with him was making me crazy."

"No one said this was going to be easy," she said patiently, "and it's going to take time for us both to feel solid. But I'm going to keep reminding you how much I love you and want to be with you until there are no more doubts, and I expect the same thing from you whenever I'm feeling lousy, too. So stop thinking about other people because the only person I want to be with—will _ever_ want to be with—is standing in front of me right now."

He spread his hands on either side of her face and pulled her in for a soft, slow kiss that quickly became more heated as he drew in a breath and slid his hands to the back of her neck. Slowly, he turned them and nudged Andy back against the wall, pressing his body against hers. She ran her hands up his back, pulling him tightly against her as she dissolved in to him.

When someone across the parking lot yelled, "Go Swarek!" Andy smiled against his lips and Sam chuckled lightly. Slipping out of his hold, she took one of his hands in both of hers and walked backwards in to the parking lot.

"Where are we going?" he asked, following her hesitantly.

"Well, as I see it, we have two options," she rattled off. "We can go back in for another drink _or_ you can take me home."

"Define 'take me home,' McNally," he told her, suspicion evident in his tone.

When playful eyes and a suggestive smile answered him, Sam picked up the pace and ushered her quickly toward his truck with a well-placed hand on her back.

As he helped her in, he goaded her, "Are you sure we should be doing this? You know, us being such good _friends_ and all . . . ."

"Funny," she said, rolling her eyes at him. "I think that 'goodbye' last night pretty much slammed the door on the friendship. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Oh, I definitely agree," he said with a confident smile as he closed her door and ran around to the driver's side.


	7. Epilogue

"Morning, Mrs. Swarek." Andy felt the mattress dip as Sam sank down beside her. She was planted face down in her pillow but the bright sunlight still managed to seep into her consciousness. He rubbed her back alluringly, leaning down to whisper in her ear, "Coffee?"

"Mmmm," she moaned, turning her head toward Sam and squinting. "What time is it?"

"Doesn't matter. It's honeymoon o'clock, McNally," he informed her lazily.

"It's _Swarek_," she corrected him, opening one eye reproachfully.

"I can't call you that. I feel like I'm talking to myself."

Yawning, she asked, "Why am I so tired?"

"Lack of sleep would be my best guess." Sam relaxed on his side beside her, propping up his head with his arm.

"Oh yeah. _That's_ why," she said with a satisfied smile. "That was a lot of celebrating for one night, you know."

"Five celebrations, as I recall," he boasted smugly.

"Five? Are you sure?"

"I can't believe you've already forgotten," he said in a heightened tone, feigning offense. "There was the couch. You know, because you couldn't wait until we got to the bedroom to rip off my clothes. The bed—obviously. The island in the kitchenette when you wanted that snack at 2 a.m. That incredibly lumpy chair in the corner," he recalled, wincing as he pointed across the room at the offensive piece of furniture. "The big friggin' bathtub—"

"There was no 'celebration' in the bathtub," she reminded him with a laugh.

"Oops, you're right. My mistake. We need to fix that," he smiled wickedly, walking in to the adjoining bathroom. Andy could see him through the door as he turned on the water and dumped an entire bottle of the hotel's complimentary bubble bath into the tub.

When he came back toward the bed and attempted to pick her up, she threw up her hands and said, "_Coffee_. Don't I at least get a cup of coffee?"

He pointed to a steaming mug on the nightstand. "Drink fast."

Picking up the mug, she grinned at him over the rim. Her rings reflected off the ceiling as she wiggled her fingers around. "Can you believe we ended up here?"

"It is pretty amazing when you consider the fact that you threw up every road block imaginable to keep me from proposing."

"Sam, that is _not_ true." The sound of her laughter filled the room as she tried not to spill her coffee on the sheets. "It wasn't intentional!" she called after him as he went back to the bathroom to check the water level in the bathtub. He was right, she thought. She hadn't exactly made it easy on him.

"_He was definitely hiding something," Andy stated firmly as she and Sam got back in the squad car after interviewing the suspect. _

"_Yeah," Sam agreed absently. He slid in to the passenger seat and buckled up, staring out the passenger window pensively._

_When Andy had been assigned to work with the detectives she'd been excited about the rare prospect of working with Sam, but as the day wore on, her excitement waned. Sam had been out of sorts for several days, his moods ranging from surly and irritable to quiet and introspective. That day as they chased down several witnesses and suspects, his unfocused, occasionally moody behavior continued. The biggest head-scratcher had been when they first got to the cruiser and he willingly climbed in to the passenger seat. _

_Thinking back, Andy realized she first noticed the change in his mood the prior weekend after she agreed to watch Leo so Traci and Steve could have a weekend away. Sam griped that he'd be sharing her with Leo during the one weekend they'd had off together for more than a month. Although Sam and Leo ended up having a great time together, Andy thought he seemed distracted at times. Then, Monday night Sam had planned to cook her dinner at his house, but she'd had to stay late at work and by the time she finished up and got to his place she'd been so exhausted she immediately fell asleep on the couch and had to be carried to bed. _

_Andy didn't know what to make of Sam's strange behavior but assumed he'd eventually come around to telling her whatever was going on in his head. In the eight months since they'd gotten back together Andy had become rather adept at knowing when Sam needed space, and he had become much more forthcoming with her than he'd been before their breakup. So she tried to remind herself they were in a good place and that whatever was bothering him would eventually come to the surface._

_As they drove back toward the station, Andy chanced an occasional glance in Sam's direction. He had his arm propped up on the windowsill and his head was resting on his hand. Finally, he broke the silence abruptly, "McNally, pull over." _

_When Andy immediately pulled in to a gas station parking lot, Sam scowled and rested his head against the window. "Not here," he groaned._

"_But you said to pull over," she reminded him, attempting to keep a lid on her frustration._

"_Okay, okay," he said, scanning the area. "Pull in down there," he told her, gesturing toward a park several blocks down the street. _

"_Fine," Andy seethed through clenched teeth as she pulled the squad car back out on to the road. "You know, I don't know what's got you so wound up, but you're making it really difficult to be in the same car with you. You're lucky it's just me. Anyone else would have dropped you off at the station hours ago," she informed him haughtily._

"_Just pull in at the park. Please," Sam told her, exercising more patience. She even noticed the ghost of a smile on his lips._

"_Whatever you say," she informed him tersely as she steered the cruiser in to the parking lot beside the park. She stopped the car and turned to look at him. "Now what?"_

"_Come with me," he instructed, quickly exiting the car and walking around to her side. He grabbed her hand and pulled her after him down a walkway that led to small pond. _

_When she held back reluctantly, slowing them down, Sam turned around and smiled at her reassuringly. "Sam, I hope you don't think we're getting busy back here. We're cops and I'm in uniform," she warned him as they approached the pond. _

"_Relax, McNally—Andy," he said, pulling her toward him and rubbing small circles on her back absently. He scanned the area and seemed pleased that there were only a few people nearby. _

_Andy raised her eyebrows at his name choice. In general, he usually called her "McNally," but he tended to revert to "Andy" in more personal moments. She didn't know what to make of the sudden change, but his behavior had been so erratic all day that she shrugged it off. It was far from strange when compared to several other odd moments they'd shared that day._

_As they approached the pond, Sam slowed down, leading her to a bench near the far side. He motioned for her to sit down and then paced back and forth in front of her several times before sliding on to the bench beside her. Taking her hands in his, Sam looked her in the eyes and without preamble, he breathed out, "Marry me." Then, as an afterthought, he stuck one hand in his pocket pulled out a ring. "I wanted to make you a nice dinner and do this right, but that ship sailed somewhere between building a blanket fort with Leo in your living room and you snoring on my shoulder after shift last night. If I don't do this now, I'm sure you'll come up with some other frustratingly unintentional way of sabotaging my efforts. A, I love you. Marry me."_

_Andy's surprise melted fast and she came up to speed rather quickly. "Yes. Yes. Yes," she answered excitedly as she pushed him backwards onto the bench, straddling his waist and hovering above him. "This is why you've been acting so weird, isn't it?" ._

"_I don't know that I'd go so far as to call it 'weird,'" he attempted to correct her._

"_I would," she informed him, her lips now a mere inch from his. "At lunch, you stared at that elderly couple in the booth across from us for five minutes. The man came over and asked if they had done anything wrong, Sam."_

"_Fine. Try proposing to someone unsuccessfully for days and see if it doesn't mess with your mind, McNally." _

"_But you knew I'd say yes."_

"_After four days I wasn't sure what I knew anymore," he told her with a laugh. He pulled her the last inch and planted a soft, quick kiss on her lips. Andy decided the occasion called for something more than a quick peck and she threw herself wholeheartedly in to letting Sam know just how enthusiastic she was about marrying him._

"_So your concerns about two officers 'getting busy' in the park seem to have faded," Sam observed between kisses._

"_I'm making a one-time exception," she muttered, going back in for more._

_Chuckling beneath her, he gave her one more firm kiss and began to sit up. "Shift is almost over, so why don't we finish up back at the station and go home for a more private party? You know, something that's not on the most uncomfortable park bench in Toronto . . ." _

"_Okay," she sighed, standing up and taking his hand to pull him off the bench. "But let's make it quick at the station."_

"_I'm all for that, McNally. And no babysitting. No working late. No falling asleep on the couch. You're all mine tonight. Got it?"_

"_Got it." She grinned at him. _

_As they walked back to the car, Andy couldn't help but remember another time when they'd been in the same park. "Hey, isn't this where we arrested those three prostitutes a few years back?" she wondered aloud._

"_Yes, it is that very park," Sam confirmed. "Thanks for reminding me. Maybe I should have just proposed back there at the gas station." He pulled her in closer and wrapped his arm around her waist. "I'm driving, by the way."_

"Enough quality time with your coffee," Sam said, scooping her up off the bed and carrying her into the bathroom. "I'm ready for my bubble bath."

"Definitely not something I ever thought I'd hear you say," she remarked with a smirk, slipping into the warm water.

"What do you mean? I can appreciate a good bubble bath with a beautiful woman."

"Nice one. You'll make some woman a really great husband." She smiled up at him as he slid in to the tub behind her.

"So I've been told."

As he wrapped his arms around her and planted wet kisses on her neck, Sam mumbled, "So this afternoon, I was thinking either the beach or the pool."

"This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain red two-piece you saw me packing in my suitcase, would it?" she asked him with a knowing smile on her face.

"Maybe . . . . But first things first. We can't let all these bubbles go to waste."

"No, we can't do that," Andy agreed. She leaned back against Sam's chest, slipping her arms around his neck and turning her head until her lips met his.


End file.
